Gibbs-Slap
by Falcon's Hyperdrive
Summary: Tony explains the term "Gibbs-slap" to Ziva; Tony is much abused. No pairings, set early- to mid-sixth season


**Gibbs-Slap**

An _NCIS_ fanfiction

By Falcon's Hyperdrive

6-28-09

********

"A what?"

"A Gibbs-slap. Come on, Ziva, surely you know what _that _is."

Ziva frowned at her partner, confusion radiating off of her in waves. "While it sounds vaguely familiar, I am not familiar with that term. Perhaps you could elaborate?"

Tony returned her expression with a smile, bordering on an annoyingly smug smirk. "It's practically the man's trademark move, Ziva. Sure, it's not copyrighted, or anything like that, but to use it would be like . . . stealing from him. And no one steals from him."

Ziva's frown turned into an amused smile. "Are you referring to the slap to the back of the head he always gives you? He's done it to me, on occasion. So, you're saying, no one else can use it?"

Tony shrugged, leaning back in his chair as he laced his fingers behind his head. "Sure, others can use it, but to do so would seem like . . . desecrating a temple, or something. Or stealing coffee from him. Rule twenty-three."

"Never mess with a Marine's coffee?" Ziva snorted, smiling widely. "I hardly think using the 'Gibbs-slap,' as you so call it, would rank high enough in severity to pair with that, or desecrating a temple."

Tony pointed a finger at her. "You laugh now."

"And forever, it would seem. Now, I am getting back to work, and I suggest you do the same. A call could come at any minute, and I for one would like to have my paperwork finished."

Tony shook his head, sitting up straight then leaning forward. "Already finished mine. You're behind, Officer David."

"Well, then, Tony, let me catch up. Good morning, McGee."

Tony blinked, looking momentarily at their coworker before turning back to Ziva. "Probie gets a good morning, and I don't?"

"Yes, well, you're you."

McGee shook his head as he set his bag down and sat at his desk. "And another pleasant day at NCIS headquarters. Morning, Ziva, Tony. Gibbs here, yet?"

"Director's office, possibly," Ziva answered. "Or he could be visiting Abby, or Ducky. But it doesn't much matter, does it? Soon he will enter the squad room, and inevitably smack DiNozzo for his stupid comment of the half-hour."

"That's Gibbs-slap, Ziva," Tony returned, grinning.

McGee looked between the two, then sighed, turning his attention to his own computer. "I don't even want to know."

"No, you don't," came a a familiar voice, and all three heads turned to see Gibbs walking up, coffee cup in hand and amused look on his face. "You know DiNozzo's logic, McGee."

"Never attempt to follow it," McGee confirmed. "At least, not on these things."

Ziva frowned. "What _is_ the penalty for copyright infringement? I can't seem to recall that."

McGee shrugged. "Oh, you could get fined, or sued. Doesn't really matter which way. Sometimes both."

"So, I'd get fined or sued for slapping Tony on the back of his head?"

Tony shook his head. "I told you, it's not copyrighted. It's just . . . wrong."

Gibbs sat at his desk, his gaze on the few files at his workspace as he arched a grey eyebrow. "I'm not the only one who does it, DiNozzo," he reminded him, stressing the name. "And that's not a big surprise. It is rather satisfying."

"So, I would be free to use it any time I wanted to?" Ziva tapped a finger to her chin, considering.

Gibbs smirked. "Feel free."

"Well, then." The Mossad officer stood. "I shall take you up on that offer sometime."

"Where you goin'?" Tony asked, on guard now. "Thought you wanted to finish that paperwork."

"It is hard to concentrate on paperwork when you have a full bladder. I'll be right back."

"Oh . . . Did _not_ need to know that . . ."

As Ziva walked away, she laughed.

****

She came back to see Gibbs hanging up the phone and reaching into his drawer. "Gear up. Dead sailor found underneath a bridge."

Ziva immediately moved to grab her things, then, as she passed Tony on the way to the elevator, a hand came out and smacked the back of his head.

"Ow! Ziva! What was that for?!"

Ziva smirked, getting into the elevator behind Gibbs and before the poor victim. "For being you."

"But-"

"It is not stealing if you are given permission, Tony."

"Yeah, well . . ." Tony moved aside to let McGee in, then turned back to her and scowled. "You'll get yours."

Ziva could see Gibbs' hand rising, and smiled. "Yes, I have no doubt."

Another smack could be heard, and Tony yelped once more.

"Ow!"


End file.
